


Made Up Of Pieces

by kathryne



Series: An ordinary hand [5]
Category: Grace and Frankie (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Home, Post-Season/Series 04, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-18 03:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13672872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathryne/pseuds/kathryne
Summary: They've lost a lot.  But they're replacing everything, piece by piece - and making some improvements, too.Part of a series of post-s4 ficlets from tumblr prompts about Grace and Frankie cuddling.  These fics are not posted in chronological order, but they are organised that way within the series.





	Made Up Of Pieces

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ellydash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellydash/gifts).



> Elly prompted me for a fic about cuddling 'in the water/in the bath,' so here it is! A little bit of snuggling as a good luck present. :)
> 
> Thanks to chainofclovers for beta!

Grace's hip hurts. 

The knee, she's started to get used to – both of them, although the replacement is mostly healed, just a bit tight sometimes when her skin is dry. But the hip is a new indignity. With a little pampering, she hopes, it'll settle back down. So instead of ignoring it and powering through with the rest of the afternoon's work, she makes a mug of tea and carries it carefully to the bathroom.

She misses the beach house less and less each day, but if she's being honest, she does still miss the bathtub. It was the perfect combination of form and function, with its gentle curves that cradled her neck just so and the casual elegance of its ornate feet. But this tub is nice, too: it's what sold them on this house, finally, after too many fruitless weeks of searching. It's not as pretty, but it's big, and after Walden Villas any tub is a luxury.

She runs the water hot and tosses in a double handful of Frankie's bath salts before sinking down into the heat and the scent of lavender. Her back unknots immediately and her shoulders slump, but her hip is more stubborn, still aching gently. She reaches for her tea and sips. She didn't bring a book, or even her phone to play a podcast. There's the gentle hiss of the bath salts dissolving; otherwise, the silence is as soothing to her brain as the water is to her body. She lets herself drift.

After a while – the water has cooled, but not too much – there's a tap on the door. Grace lifts her head; Frankie walks in, sits on the edge of the tub, and smiles. 

Grace knows the water is almost opaque from the bath salts, her body barely visible; knows too that Frankie has touched and kissed almost every inch of her skin and whispered endearments every time. She still blushes, at once embarrassed and delighted.

"Sore?" Frankie asks, dipping a hand into the water and landing unerringly on Grace's knee. She strokes the inner curve, just where pain sometimes stabs when Grace steps wrong.

Grace shakes her head, but doesn't speak up to clarify; she's already exposed enough, a little shy even as Frankie's fingers run over her slick skin.

Frankie looks at her for a moment longer and then stands in a flutter of blue and green fabric. Before Grace can protest the loss of contact, Frankie starts unbuttoning her shirt. She pauses halfway down. "You mind if I join ya?"

It ought to be absurd, the idea of the two of them crammed in the tub like sardines, but Grace feels a burn of heat in her belly that has nothing to do with the warmth of the water. "Really?" she asks automatically, just to be certain.

"Yeah, uh. There's a drought on. Gotta save water. I'm doing this for the environment," Frankie answers, and Grace thinks she might be a little unsure herself. She nods then, eager to reassure, and Frankie's eyes crinkle as she grins.

Grace watches greedily as Frankie strips out of her layers, piling her clothes in the corner. She never tires of this process, this revelation. Half-naked, Frankie stops to tie her hair up in a sloppy bun, and Grace itches to pull it all down again and watch it cascade over her shoulders.

Instead, she just slides forward, propping her elbows on her knees. Making room.

It's a bit of a comedy of errors, getting Frankie in. They have to reverse course halfway to let some water out, and Grace's teabag ends up in the tub somehow, which they don't notice until Frankie sits on it. "What the hell," Frankie mutters, dredging it out from under her and dropping it on the tile with a splat. They both look at it for a moment, askew in its small, spreading puddle, and then Grace starts giggling and can't stop, until she's leaning back against Frankie, both of them shaking with laughter.

"Oh, well, antioxidants," Frankie says, settling herself more firmly. "Can't hurt to apply them externally for a change." She wraps her arms around Grace's waist.

Grace lets her head fall back, nuzzling into the curve of Frankie's shoulder. "I don't think that's how it works," she murmurs. Her eyes are drooping, although she would've sworn she wasn't tired.

"Yeah, but you don't know, do you?" The words are pointed, but Frankie's voice is soft. Her thumbs draw gentle circles on Grace's stomach. 

It's not the most comfortable position; Grace knows Frankie's back is going to complain in the morning. She's already planning a slow start to the day tomorrow. Pancakes, maybe, and reading the paper in bed. She'll gladly pay whatever price is asked of her for this moment, weightless in the water, Frankie's touch tethering her to her body, to their life. She rests her hands over Frankie's and holds on.

For a long time, they barely move. They don't speak. Frankie stretches forward once with a grunt to let some cool water out and add more hot, bring the temperature back up to where they're comfortable. But time passes, and eventually, it's enough. 

Frankie brings one hand back out of the water and nudges Grace under her chin, and Grace turns her head up automatically, waiting. She doesn't have to wait long before Frankie kisses her, and that's all she needed to make the afternoon complete. She breaks the kiss, sighing against Frankie's lips. 

"Okay?" Frankie asks softly.

Grace knows she's not asking just about getting out of the tub, or even what drove her to draw the bath in the first place. It's a larger question, and forget her sore hip, forget the boxes of vibrators still waiting unpackaged or the dinners she hasn't planned for the week or even their kids' continued icy reserve. All of that matters. But this matters more.

"Yeah, Frankie," she says, leaning up for another slow, gentle kiss. "Yeah. Everything's good."


End file.
